


To the Manner Born

by buzzfeedloser (bfuloser)



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: 1880s slang, Episode: s03e01 The Ghost Town At Vulture Mine, Faked Suicide, Fellas is it gay, Hanging, M/M, Murder, Plot, Vigilante Justice, protective ricky!, shyan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 12:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14716238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bfuloser/pseuds/buzzfeedloser
Summary: "You act like we're in cahoots.""Aren't we?"Or, the time Ricky Goldsworth saved C. C. Tinsley's life and dragged him into crime hell.





	To the Manner Born

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this doesn't suck lmao  
> "Belvidere" used to mean "handsome man" ;)

Tinsley sat at a corner table of the saloon, drinking Red Eye to forget and absently staring at his thumbs in thought. Friendly and not-so-friendly faces blurred by as he contemplated his situation. He’d moved here, to Vulture City, to run away from the mistakes he’d made in California. He knew it might be considered cowardly to some, sure, but Tinsley knew he’d much prefer to start over in a boomtown states away than to face it. 

No, C.C. Tinsley didn’t like to think about it very much, but he knew in the back of his mind that his time was running out.

And of all the places to hide in, he’d determined that Vulture City wasn’t so bad. He wasn’t a huge fan of all the action, but he did enjoy the drinking and the livelihood of the place. People really lived their fullest life in mine towns, and in the past month he’d really grown to respect that, even if a vast majority of the people in the city were… something else. 

A loud noise at the entrance of the building finally broke Tinsley’s tired trance, and turned with the crowd to look at the doorway. A short man with dark hair stood at the doorway, hand on the door from slamming it open. 

_ Woah,  _ Tinsley thought.

The man stood still for a few seconds, breathing deeply, then walked towards the bar. The crowd slowly began to turn back to their conversations. C.C. would have, too, but any distraction right now was welcome, so his eyes continued to follow the unfamiliar figure. After a minute or so, the man had a drink in hand and seemed relaxed in posture as he turned around and began walking towards Tinsley’s table.

_ Wooaah, wait, what? _ Tinsley shook his head, now realizing he’d been staring  _ way _ too long and that the newcomer had definitely noticed. Said man approached the table with a smirk and sat down across from Tinsley slowly.

Tinsley chewed the inside of his cheek. He was notoriously bad at starting conversation. He tried to greet the man, but “Um,” came out of his mouth instead, and he closed his eyes in defeat.

Luckily, his guest seemed to take it in good humor (Or some kind of humor, at least), because he chuckled. “You seem eloquent. You up to chew the rag?” The man asked, and Tinsley agreed politely. 

“Name’s Goldsworth.”

“What about a first name?”

“Oh, so you  _ can _ speak!” the man named Goldsworth jabbed. “Yeah, I save the first name for the second date. And yourself?”

“Tinsley.”

“Charmed.” Goldsworth said and took another swig from his glass.

“So, what brings you here?” Tinsley asked after a moment of silence — one that bothered Tinsley very much, but Goldsworth did not seem to mind.

“Primarily the fact that you were staring at me like I was a blue-blood in a pigsty.” 

“I wa — well — um,” C.C. stuttered, a bit embarrassed. “Well, I really meant why you were in the city.”

Goldsworth flashed a bright smile that was both intimidating and a little endearing. “Yeah, I know. I got booted from La Paz, so I’m waking snakes here now.”

Tinsley nodded. “There’s a lot of that here already. Miners are notorious for mischief.”

Goldsworth raised his glass to his lips and paused to respond. “Guess I’ll fit right in.”

Tinsley watched him, trying to analyze the man. He was short compared to C.C., but his demeanor was dominant and intimidating nonetheless. His muscles were very prominent, and Tinsley tried to narrow down what job the man might have had that led to such strength.

“So, what do you do?” Goldsworth asked Tinsley curiously.  _ Not a builder, too calculative.  _

“Ah, I was a detective of sorts in California for a time.” C.C. replied. _Not a miner, either. Doesn’t fit in this crowd; he’s… nicer looking._ _Then what is he doing in a mining city?_

“And now you’re miles away and drinking at a saloon with a stranger. You really got fucked, then, huh?”

Tinsley’s heart started moving faster as he realized what the man across from him had said. He hadn’t told anybody around here  _ anything  _ other than his old job description. “What?” He asked quietly.

“Bottom fact, no detectives or law officer would bother with a boomtown.” Goldsworth chuckled, as if knowingly.

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, both trying to piece the other together.

“Who  _ are  _ you?” Tinsley asked.

Goldsworth smiled at Tinsley and slowly leaned in closer to him, air growing colder around him. “Isn’t that the burning question?” Goldsworth stared directly into his eyes, as if challenging him to speak, before abruptly sitting back once more and finishing off his drink. “ _ Ricky _ Goldsworth.” The shorter man stood up to leave. “And don’t let any guff from me get in the way of you and your  _ lawful  _ job, Mister Detective Tinsley.”

 

The next time Tinsley saw Goldsworth was the following morning. Tinsley had been crossing the street to go to the general store before dawn when he saw Ricky walking towards the outskirts of town.

“Goldsworth?”

Ricky turned. “Well, if it isn’t Detective Tinsley!” 

Tinsley smiled. “How are you?”

Goldsworth put his palm to his head. “I have a bit of Barrell Fever. Could be worse. Been training a hoss all morning. You?”

“About the same, other than the working.” Tinsley admitted awkwardly. “And I’m a bit surprised, you don’t seem like the horse type.”

Ricky shrugged. “Animals are better than people.”

Tinsley laughed at that. “Debatably.”

“A biddable belvidere like you may be one of the few exceptions.” Ricky winked.

Tinsley turned pink.

“Anyway, I have to go or that buzzard bait might bite the dust. See you around!” Said Goldsworth, and he strode away in the blue light of dawn.

 

Tinsley woke up to a banging on his door. Luckily, he’d been too lazy to take his pants off last night, so he was able to skip over to his door to stop the godawful noise. He opened the door to find Henry Wickenburg, a significant figure in the city, on his doorstep. This wasn’t the first time, but C.C. never had quite gotten used to him showing up at his door.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your sleep this early in the morning, Detective.” Said the mayor, seemingly rushed and a bit out of breath. C.C. stepped back and ushered the man inside. “What’s happened?” Tinsley asked, already slipping his shirt and overcoat on. When he had moved here, he’d quickly become a popular figure among the higher class, who desired a less hectic system of justice than the miners and workers. 

“There was a robbery in the vault.”

“That’s not uncommon,” Tinsley countered.

“There’s an unidentified corpse in the vault.” The mayor finished.

Tinsley raised his eyebrows. “Now, that? That’s a little more uncommon.” He tugged his overcoat and opened the door to rush downtown with the mayor. 

“Who’s dotty enough to pull a stick-up and leave a body behind?” Tinsley muttered to himself. Then again, he’d seen a lot of odd cases in his day. An armed robbery in a boomtown was  _ not _ going to be exceedingly difficult. 

The puzzled detective and the anxious mayor reached the city’s vault just as the sky began to bleed morning purple. There was a bit of a crowd around the building, and Tinsley had to work to push through. Everybody around seemed to be interested in identifying the body as a neighbor or relative, but there seemed to have been no luck. C.C. and Wickenburg stepped into the back room to see a gaping hole in the usually stuffed vault, bricks upon bricks missing from the collection. Where a small fortune once stood was a crumpled form with three red bullet wounds, now browning from the hours it had taken for the scene to be discovered. Shootings were not especially uncommon around here, and Tinsley was often not consulted over these scuffles and rows, but the victim’s body was almost always easily identified or taken away to be buried by the murderer in hopes of concealing their deed.

C.C. approached the body, gently turning the head to see the face. A cold shock ran through his body when he did and he jumped back in terror.

He knew that face. 

“What is it, Detective?” Wickenburg asked from behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Tinsley forced himself to swallow his nerves and calm down the best he could for the moment. “Yes, sorry, sir. This case will be a lally-cooler, I promise, I just need a couple things; do you think you could have someone fetch a few tools for me?”

“Yes, I’ll be right back.” Wickenburg nodded and shut the door behind him, leaving C.C. Tinsley alone with the corpse of the woman who’d sworn to kill him.

  
  


After half an hour of searching and digging the his brain for answers, C.C. had come to two conclusions. This woman was from California, as he had known her in his old hometown, and she had threatened his life multiple times before; therefore he could safely conclude that that she was after him in the name of revenge. So, conclusion two, someone in the town might be aware of this, and maybe had even tried to stop her. When he thought too long, he could sort of convince himself he was crazy, or maybe he was too self-absorbed to think someone in this goldang town would save his life, but he also knew that this scenario was most likely the case. 

And… he figured it was interesting enough there was a new member of the community that had taken an interest in him on their first night in town. It wasn’t definite by  _ any _ means, but he reckoned it was a good place to start.

When Wickenburg asked him if there’d been any progress, C.C. was ready to investigate outside of the room. “Whoever shot her did a right smart job, but I think I’ve got a lead. I’ll let you know you when I can.”

“Do you need a hoss? I might have one you can borrow. This needs to be solved quickly so we can hang the thief.” 

“No, I’ll walk. I hate to ask more favors from you, but that lady’s as cold as a wagon tire and needs to be buried. Do you think you could ask one of your men to take care of burial?” 

Wickenburg nodded. “Of course, you’re the one who’s been asked a favor.”

Tinsley nodded in appreciation and took off out into the new daylight. The crowd had dissipated, the sun signalling work hours for most. Tinsley asked around until he was told by a friendly bartender that his new friend Goldsworth was out in the prarillon, working on cutters.

He arrived outside of the stable, spotting Goldsworth from a distance, and thought about the strange encounter he’d had the previous night. If the man had been at all truthful, Tinsley was in for it.

Tinsley approached the man, and knocked gently against the wooden pillar he leaned against. When Ricky noticed and looked up at him, Tinsley was surprised to see a genuine, friendly smile radiating from Goldsworth’s face. In the daytime, he looked completely different; Ricky had a glowing, kedge look to him, though he still looked tough enough to knock anyone galley west.

“Um, hey,” Tinsley said, a bit flustered.

“Hi. How’re you?” Goldsworth asked, picking up a large bale of hay and moving it across the pathway. 

“A bit rattled, I suppose.”

“How come?” Ricky asked, turning his head to continue the conversation as he worked.

“There was a murder downtown. Not a piece of pudding for me to wake up to.” He said, squinting a bit at his companion.

“Oh, wow. Reckon it was a pain to wake up.”

“How so?”

“Were you not in liquor last night?”

Tinsley felt his cheeks go a bit red. He’d briefly seen the man at the saloon again last night, and, yes, he’d been a bit tipsy. “My job requires joy juice sometimes.” He defended, crossing his arms.

“As does mine,” Ricky added, winking at Tinsley. C.C. raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “And that job is…?”

Ricky pulled a kite. “You know, you’re rather slow for a detective.” Ricky then turned back to his task. “Pop your corn. Why are you here? Miss me?”

Tinsley swallowed. “I’m guessing you already know.”

“Oh, I reckon I should take my words back, you’re a detective to the manner born!” Goldsworth drawled sarcastically, then turned around quickly to stare directly into the taller man’s gaze. “I think we’re at a stalemate.” He said, his tone suddenly serious and icy.

“In what way?” C.C. said, quieter than before.

“I saved your life, so you’re not sending me to Crowbar Hotel, Mush-head. I see no issue, _ do you? _ ” he said, emphasizing the words as if challenging him to say something.

Tinsley was a bit intimidated, talking to someone who he was now sure had killed a woman and stolen half of the town’s fortune not three hours ago, but he was also a bit pissed at the attitude Goldsworth was displaying. This caused a problem, because he valued his life, but he also valued his pride very much, too. “I don’t intend to start a row.”

“But?”

“But they’ll hang you and I won’t stop them.” Tinsley glared.

“But you’re not telling them, are you? Because you’re a moral person, more or less, and you’d feel guilty. I saved your life.”

“You act like we’re in cahoots,” Tinsley accused. Ricky raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Aren’t we? You assume that I should be intimidated because you know things, but neither of us are lunkheads. It’s not that simple.  _ I _ have all the cards.” Ricky shrugged. “ _ And _ you’re threatening a criminal.”

Tinsley swallowed at that guff. 

Ricky smiled sweetly, as if he hadn’t just made a grown man terrified, and resumed working. The detective, on the other hand, had a million thoughts racing through his brain. “Goldsworth…?”

“Mhm?”

“Why did you… ? I came all the way out here, and I was about to be sent up or down, and now you’ve….” Tinsley trailed off, rubbing his fingers together.

Ricky laughed. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Always hated her. She was a four-flusher through and through. I tracked her tracking you. As for why I’m dragging you into it? You’re the one that messed with her in the first place. You asked to be part of this world by meeting the likes of us. You wanna dance with the devil, you gotta live with it when he sets you on fire.” 


End file.
